A Backstory of a Backstory
by theFanaticCat
Summary: for the curious, yes, Jimli this is you, I bring you the story of Coco Badoux! Love! Space rifts! Sand pits! Even magic! and much more awaits you in this many part addition to the one shot, A Stranger Walks. R/R please. rated T 'cause my characters cuss like a real humans! you may encounter some perversion. also wanted humor in the genre but no more three genres allowed boohoo.
1. Chapter 1

Holo-rain fell on a number of student-age youths who, while waiting for the teleport station to load, were gibgabbing, a now popular "slang" language that was once used in the Guard, away with no apparent care in the world. I looked at Valentine and wondered where my "date" was, let's just refer to him as "Blackie", while lighting up a bagshriah*. I thought back on the last couple of months since Blackie and I had arrived in this strange place, though in my opinion it was not half as strange as where we'd come from, and found nothing but morbid memories. Yeck.

The youths looked over at me as Blackie came up as they should for Blackie is a taller than an average man with broad shoulders that can only be achieved through actual hard labor and not a gym. His wavy black hair just brushes aforementioned shoulders, it's tipped with purple dye for some reason, and his green eyes only enhance an already handsome face that is currently grinning at me like we just won the lottery. I gave the youths the middle finger while Blackie was greeting Valentine and they all started saluting me as well as each other, laughing the whole while.

"Heyo, my honey. How was the walk?" he greeted me in a cheery voice that promised mischief. In my head I replied with a swift punch to the face but that would be rude so instead I said, "Jis danning ta ren. Wist were je?"

Confusion warred with amusement and amusement won though he tried to hide it behind a hand. He swallowed it down and said with barely contained glee, "You just said 'just standing in the rain and piss were you'! Oh, you are a laugh and a half! Ah, ah," he raised a finger, "Much as I would love to hear more about your morning, I have news that cannot wait." He paused and glanced at the youths pretending not to listen as their station buzzed in readiness. "Tell you what, I'll tell over, what did you call it the other day, ah right, brunch. My treat."

I handed Valentine's leash to him and he took off while several thoughts ran through my head as I followed him. For example: As if it'd be anything BUT your treat, you ass! Or Oh, no, no, that won't do! After all I'm just rolling in money why I should start a trend I'm so rich! But I suppose that would be rude and sarcastic so I shall continue to keep my mouth shut while he flaunts, yes flaunts, his carefree attitude. After all, he is an experienced con man with a history and I'm just a lowly misplaced soldier who doesn't really know anything worth knowing. Plus ever since that job we did he's been filthy rich so now it's a hobby to act like he's relatively poor.

What job you ask? You'll find out as soon as we sit down and order something, I'm sure.

We passed a number of likely places but continued past them which leads me to suspect we'll probably return to the crowded underbelly of the, I guess you could call it, city to pack into an already packed café that is very popular with the 'overworlders' as I like to call them. They think it's exciting and, oh me oh my,_ dangerous_. And we've just entered an underport which has a door that leads to the infamous piano-staircase of Jillin, a suburb of Jillinksy which is a different story altogether so we shan't go there.

Blackie made music as he and Valentine skipped down the stairs and I made my usual _pluh-pluh-duh-plink_ behind them (but with gusto so I wouldn't be chewed out again). And as usual, Blackie didn't bother to wait for me but Valentine did which lead to the tired argument of "he loves you more than he loves me. Why?!" to which I replied with the usual. All this eventually ended at The Duck, a lovely café made entirely of hardened plastic with threads of neon lights throughout its structure, where Blackie opened the door with a flourish and took up point in order to elbow our way through the throng while I kept an eye out for an available table. Or what passes as one.

Valentine panted happily while we turfed some night drunks out of their booth than crawled onto the seats and fell asleep. Blackie sighed and perched on what little seat was left as I picked Valentine's butt up and set it back down on my lap with pat to the bum. I looked through what passes as a menu and punched in our order while mister indecisive dithered over what he would get to drink.

"I know what I want." He said, a smile on his mug as he slid the 'menu' back into its slot.

"Don't bother. I already ordered for you. Now what is it that you want to tell me." I replied.

He stilled and glared at me while his brain processed the sentence then growled, "What'd you do with the wig and red contacts?"

I pursed my lips. "Sold the wig and kept the red. Never know when we might need them again, after all. We went over this last week. Stop sulking and spit it out."

He put his elbows on the table and folded his arms. "Ah. But that was before I found out that you planted evidence on the old man. A watch with your initials engraved on it and they were your _real_ initials. So, when were you going to tell me, Caitri?" The ass managed to look like I'd just murdered his dog.

"Listen, Blackie, this system has nothing on me. Absolutely nothing. I don't exist as far as they're concerned and I never did! Besides, I _told_ you to call me Coco, you asshat!" this last part said in my head while I took a deep, calming, breath. "This just makes the Underforces search in vain for someone called "C.O. Badoux" and she doesn't exist at all in this world. So stop giving me that look and spit out what this wonderful news is already!" Ok so I need to work on my calm. Big deal.

Blackie opened his mouth to retort but the _ding!_ of our order landing interrupted him so I quickly began chowing down. I had a plate of unknown origin frittata with side of sushi and OJ while Blackie had his usual with a variation on the drink; a something called mak'lav which he claims they had in his land.

As I chewed I recalled a similar brunch with an entirely different human being, if Tilly can be called human, who was my bunker buddy back when we wandered the sand pit normally known as Formerly Afghanistan (or Fucking Asspit of the republic as dubbed by the marines)*. And just like that, memory's doors opened wide.

*bagshriah- a more healthy substitute for cigarette smokers with the added option of bubblegum flavor for those wishing to relive ye olden days.

*the opinions expressed by the characters in this story do not necessarily represent the opinions of the author.


	2. Chapter 2

It was sunny and hot which was typical weather for this region while the glare on the sand made everything seem yellowish and the sand was in the food as usual. I was sitting in a ramshackle café waiting for my bunker buddy, Mahtilda Jenkins, sipping on watered down coffee and watching the sign on the café swing back and forth on a metal thread, it made an awful racket, and wondering whether I would ever escape Tilly. You see, Tilly and I have been bunker buddies, bb's being the policy for enlisted females, for years and I have always put up with Tilly's bullshit attitudes, porno addiction and continued harassment of the poor male soldiers (the marines like the attention) but hopefully this assignment would change things. Not likely but one always keeps that door open.

I was wearing a snipes rec uniform today which looks exactly like a regular joe uniform: priest collared coat and trousers in sand camo print tucked into above the ankle tan boots, mine had steel toes, and the helmet that everyone despises which I had modified to mimic the nomadic look that the natives used before the Invasion Era. That thing was on the table within reach, we're supposed to wear them at all times but I say if the brass thinks they're so damn comfortable they should wear them for three days straight, and my armory was more than a regular joe's would be but then again in the Asspit you had to be a walking armory to survive. Besides, there were plenty of places around here to pick up extra weaponry, pre-Invasion Era, but, hey, a knife's a knife, left over from the natives who used to live here before the Asspit was razed to the ground by the Republic's forces (us!). My dark red hair is regulation style with those edgy sideburns that are all the rage now while living out here in the Asspit has made me dark as a native, but first I had to go through being the same color as my hair (the marines got a kick out of that), and my round brown eyes made my pixie pointed face even cuter in Tilly's opinion. I've been a sniper for the Republic Armed Forces, RAF, for six years now and the Asspit is the best place I've been so far. Supposedly there are rebels fighting back against the Republic's occupation, even though the Republic has been in the Asspit for more than a hundred years, and I haven't even seen one. Not one. So they are either out of their minds or shits already happened and I'm late to the pickings. RAF has determined that I would be better off hanging out with a regular unit in the middle of "known rebel occupied territory" with my bunker buddy who is late to her own brunch date at this so called café.

I looked around for the elusive "waiter", bastard's been avoiding me on purpose, I swear, and saw nothing but sand drifts on the wood floor and broken metal chairs. I idly ran my hand over the pocked metal surface of the table while my stomach complained and the sign _creaked_ like an un-oiled urn lid.

A "Yoohoo!" split my moment of calm and there was Tilly. In the same uniform as me but looking sexy with her coat open to reveal a tucked-in tight black shirt that emphasized those boobs, I _despise_ them, and sporting a non-regulation make-up job that left males panting in her wake. Her brown hair had grown out enough to frame her face, she had combed out a fringe of bangs, and her blue eyes were sparkling as a smile lit up her face.

"I got us a prime spot on the next shipment out of here, Doe! Ok, so it'll be about twelve months but, hey, that's closer than what it was before! Did you wait long for me?" she said all in a rush, that's Tills for you, as she scavenged an unbroken chair from the mess and sat down next to me. I looked at her then looked at her chair, which was practically making out with mine, and gritted out, "Tills, I have waited twenty minutes and now you're in my bubble. Spread out."

She blinked a couple of times then moved around until she was opposite me, muttering all the while about someone getting out of the wrong side bed, and flagged down the "waiter" who had emerged to get a look at the beautiful woman who had entered his domain. Bastard. She rattled off a couple orders while I sneered at the "waiter" and smiled at him when he came back to give us complimentary OJ. I took a sip and found sand, of course.

"Doe, I am sorry I took so long getting here but aren't you even the least bit happy about being moved up on the ship-out list? I mean, I went to great lengths to get this done, even slept with the Commander-General, and all I'm asking for is a little sign of gratitude!" She sighed.

I gave her the evil eye and replied, "You were already sleeping with the C-G before this idea even popped into your head, Tills. Yes, I'm happy but a shit ton of stuff can happen in twelve months. But that doesn't matter because we're going to be in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of nobodies, not even another marine unit, who will all be trying to jump in your bunk and I won't have it. Not this time. You stay celibate and I'll be happy."

Done delivering my statement, I leaned forward and drank her OJ then dug into the stuff that passes for food around here. She leaned back in her chair and sighed again running a hand over her face then slapping it down on her perfect leg and rolling her head around, cracking her neck. She opened her mouth, thought for a moment then closed it. I looked up, chewing, and raised an eyebrow. It came out in a rush, the same old line.

"I don't mean to draw them in, Doe, but they do like me. Most of them. And truth be told, I do enjoy the company and I can share, no problem, but you always say "go fuck yourselves backwards, dumbasses" and then things just go down the drain! So, it's not exactly my fault that you don't jump on the opportunity when it presents itself! You're celibate by choice, Doe, and I'm not doing it, no sir." She slid her chair back and stood up. "And that's the end of it, Doe!"

Tilly got a few paces before she turned around, a finger raised in indignation, "And don't you dare go to Ridgeston! I don't know how you got the inside track with that guy but if you go and snitch on me to him, our friendship is _over_." With that parting statement, she was gone.

Not one to pass up food I finished my plate and moved on to hers before leaving to go report to our new platoon commander, Bart Ridgeston, who had my back in unit protocol as far as Tills was concerned. After all, he knew the truth of the matter.

Ridgeston looked happy when I mentioned I had other things to do so I left his makeshift office on the outskirts of main camp and stalked over the unit area we would be joining. As I walked I buckled on the torture device, nice & snug protect your mug, as pertains to protocol since the OverHeirs are always watching their precious fighters in the Asspit via their sighters aboard the flying fortresses that orbit Mother Terra since the invasion or the salvation as some call it. But I am old blood homo sapiens with only a slight loyalty to these "OverHeirs", call me old-fashioned, though they've been here for nearly two thousand Terra years and have given us natural citizens ways to escape to the moon, like some Heinlein novel, while we split Terra up amongst ourselves which was a clever move in their favor.

The side that won the civil war that ensued after the OverHeirs announced their presence took over a lot of the landmasses and islands but left certain areas of land to The Nationals, as they called themselves at the time, who were almost wiped out in the war and for a time they occupied Formerly Afghanistan before The People's Republic kicked 'em out for reasons unknown to us lowly civilians but my personal opinion is that those turds the "Eternal" had some hand in it.

The Eternal, as they dubbed themselves, are the front men of the OverHeirs and scamper around interviewing possible loyalists, overseeing training of soldiers, RAF or no, and basically running everything in the name of the OverHeirs. If the OverHeirs actually exist, that is. They are humanoid in appearance though they seem to be wearing biomechanical suits, armor or something, with nautical-looking "eyes" that glow when they're interested in something and they are very tall.

"Caitri? Helloo?" Blackie waved a hand in front of my face and I tried to keep my feelings from my face as I blinked and tipped my head to one side in question. He leaned back and said, "We've been hired by a very important man to do a shadowing job on a girl, nothing perverted, just to make sure she doesn't get into trouble and we'll be above ground for this job so don't do anything suspicious, ok? And for the love of Salt, please, please get rid of the hair!"

I patted my neon green curls, smiling, and asked him what the name of our employer was. He leaned across the table and whispered, "Eoin Fritjovan."

"Fritjovan? Sounds Scandinavian," I mumbled under my breath.

He frowned, "Scanda-what? What is that, a disease?"

I blinked, "No. Why are we working for a pirate now? I thought we were going to enjoy life to its fullest by experiencing the perks of this place."

He grimaced, "How did you know he's a pirate? That's supposed to be a secret."

"I hacked your, what do they call them, ah, feed. Your desk feed." I replied, as nonchalantly as I could as his eyes narrowed in that lovely emotion called rage.

"I asked Ferdy down the street to secure the systems so how the hell did you hack it?! He's the best we can afford and I know you didn't bribe him this time! What else have you done to screw with my plans?"

I sighed, "This isn't the time or place to discuss _that_ besides the feeds they have here are similar to the tech on my home planet so it was no big deal. What _I _want to know is why are we working for anyone at all? The job with the judge was supposed to set us up for life and now you have us working as tails? Why?"

He sucked in a deep breath and puffed out his cheeks as he released it in a sigh, "Listen, Caitri, I am bored out of my mind. That is why we took this job and anyway it'll give us an excuse to get out and explore this world! Don't you want to explore?"

Yeah but you could've let me know instead of me having to slink around behind your back. If this is how you treated your partners no wonder you were alone when I met you. But I refrained from saying such hurtful words and merely said, "Yes."

He drummed his fingers across the table while giving me a "are you sure" look and slid out of the booth, grabbing Valentine's leash. I followed them back through the crowd of rabid tourney followers, the tourney's being the main sporting events around here, who were all yelling and hollering like there was no tomorrow. As soon as we came outside Blackie turned to me and said, "Seriously though get rid of the green locks, they could compromise our covertness. And I don't think Valentine could survive without you. Poor beastie's heart would be broken from despair."

I snorted, "Hah. Vinny would be fine; I think it's you who would die of despair."

"His name is Valentine, woman. Not this "Vinny" or whatever you call him"

"Yes, that's his short name but his full name is Vincent Valentine. What does this girl look like anyway?"

"Like Eoin, long black hair and beautiful blue eyes, which leads me to suspect they might siblings. Again, why this Vincent Valentine thing? I told you, I chose the name Valentine because my brother George works for a fellow called Valentine and it seems like a good name for a dog." He said in exasperation.

"Oh please, please, tell me you have a holo of this girl. Vincent Valentine has always been one of my favorite names and besides he answers to both; why do you care so badly? Geez and here I thought you hated your brother but really you secretly love him, how sweet." I said in as sickly sweet a voice as I could manage.

"He doesn't need a full name! But I suppose we must factor in his size and say, yes a dog this size should be honored with a full name. Still, I hope we don't run into any trouble with this job it could be bad for our reps if people found out about our failings. And yes, I have a holo of the lovely girl and her posse of possible friends."

He unlocked the back door to our humble abode and bowed to me, gesturing like butler ushering in guests. I sniffed and walked in, swinging my hips like a model on a walkway before running up stairs to nab the coveted brown chair that sits in the Former Judge Almanzo Sersinn's front study.


	3. Authors Note

A/N: apologies to followers of this story! Time got away from me, as cliché as that sounds, and I was away from my word docs for a long while. So enjoy, review and send me messages complaining about the wait! :D


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